


Compatibility

by meaninglessblah



Series: Prompts & Fills [8]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Craigslist, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Some Humor, Speed Dating, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/pseuds/meaninglessblah
Summary: Guy that got hit by a car outside Noonan's last night:I was outside smoking. You were crossing the street and got hit by a car. You bounced off the hood and landed on your feet yelling something about being indestructible.The other night I almost got trapped in a dumpster because I was going after a pizza that I thought I wanted to take home with me. I've also recently slept on my kitchen floor.I think we'd be a good fit for each other. Move in with me? Let's get married?
Relationships: Roy Harper & Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Damian Wayne
Series: Prompts & Fills [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987264
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Compatibility

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alphaofallcats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphaofallcats/gifts).



> An old prompt fill, moved over from Tumblr. This fic was a response to a screenshot of a Craiglist ad (in summary above), and was written for i-am-verybusy, who lives in Rarepair Hell.

“Hey,” Jason says, without looking up from his phone. 

Roy grunts and goes back to fishing the hex key out of his makeshift - _Bomb? AI? Toaster oven?_ He’s not sure yet, but it’ll come together in the end. His tinkerings always do. 

“You posted that craigslist ad about that guy, yeah?” Jason asks, and Roy looks up to where the man is sprawled over most of his ratty green lounge suite. Feet propped on an armchair and head lolling off the loveseat. “The one about the guy getting hit by that car?” 

“The one who yelled about being indestructible?” 

“That’s the bitch.” 

“Yeah, why?” Roy prompts, and pinches the screwdriver handle between his teeth so he can cup his palm and upturn the half-dismantled device. 

Jason’s heels hit the timber floorboards, wobbling a few of Roy’s spare screws off the rickety coffee table. He swipes a hand out to catch them without looking up, and waits til Jason has righted himself in a sit, gaze glued to his phone screen as he thumbs through the post. 

When the dumbstruck silence ensues, Roy pulls the screwdriver from his mouth and prompts, “Well?” 

“I think he replied.” 

Roy does pause at that, head perking up to frown at Jason, still entranced by the dim glow of his screen. He doesn’t blink, just leans over to tug the chain on the lamp on the end table, bathing the dimly sunlit room in light as he straightens. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the man says with a huff of bewilderment. There’s a snort, followed by, “I think he likes your ‘rustic charm’.” 

Roy arches a brow and sets the device down in front of his crossed calves on the carpet. “He said ‘rustic’?” 

Jason makes a noncommittal noise and seesaws his free hand. “He used ‘primitive’, but I’m reading between the lines here.” 

“Show me,” Roy demands, shoving up to his knees to reach across the coffee table. 

Jason slumps back into the cushions, ignoring his request. “He sounds like an asshole.” 

Roy picks a wayward screw out of his palm, sets it back on the table point-up. “Tell me what he wrote.” 

“‘To the smoker loitering outside Noonan’s last Thursday, wearing the red flannel and sorely in need of a haircut.’ Sounds like you.” 

“Yup,” Roy agrees, and takes a sip of the lukewarm cola propped up near Jason’s knee, before grimacing at the taste. The aftertaste improves it though, so he takes another. “What else?” 

“‘Smoking is a disgusting habit, and were it not’- Can I skip this bit?” 

“Sure.” 

“Oh wait, he mentions your eyes.” 

“My eyes?” Roy says with a look that Jason meets with teasing amusement. 

“He likes your eyes, Royboy.” 

“Shut up,” Roy returns with a roll of said eyes, and gestures to the phone. “What did he say about the other stuff, about the pizza and sleeping in the kitchen?” 

“If you ever do that again, I’m dumping hot coffee on you. You scared the shit outta me. Three a.m. is not the time to be tripping over your dumb ass in the dark.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a bastard,” Roy huffs, tossing his hand. “Get to the good bit.” 

Jason’s glare dutifully returns to the cell in his palms. “‘Why anyone would want to salvage discarded foodstuffs is beyond me. I can, however, sympathise with inopportune sleeping arrangements, as I found myself similarly displaced recently.’” 

Roy jabs a triumphant finger in Jason’s direction. “Ha!” 

“Great, you two can fuck on the tile and pass right out,” Jason responds scathingly. 

“Can we?” Roy interrupts hopefully. 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Ok, got the message; not in your kitchen. What about your bed?” 

“I will skin you alive, Harper.” 

Roy hides his shit-eating grin in another swig of cola, and resolves to set the can out of his reach. “What’s he say about being a good fit for each other?” 

“Dunno, he rambles,” Jason mutters, scrolling. “Some shit about you needing a better taste in fashion - that’s where the primitive part comes in. He mentions your hair again. He must really like gingers.” Jason makes a noise of interest. “But he does say he’s willing to improve your personal style. That’s practically an invitation, if you ask me.” 

Roy scrunches his nose and tugs at his sweatshirt subconsciously. “I don’t dress _that_ badly.” 

“You do,” Jason informs him without looking up, and Roy’s just constructing some spiteful comment about the man’s own distressed jeans when he perks. “Oh shit, wait.” 

“What?” 

Jason struggles up off his elbows, brow lifting as he dictates, “'Your proposal is both inane and lacking originality. At the very least, you should furnish me with an opportunity to discern your intentions over a meal.'” 

Roy’s brows rise. “He wants me to take him on a date?” 

“Sure sounds like it.” 

“Huh.” 

“Huh,” Jason agrees, and looks up. “You going to take him up on his offer?” 

“I don’t know. Should I?” Roy asks, holding that piercing blue gaze. 

“Free meal.” 

“I think he wanted me to pay for it.” 

“Oh. Still, free company.” 

“He was willing to go toe-to-toe with a two-tonne Cadillac,” Roy points out. 

“That’s true,” Jason agrees. “A+ for effort.” 

“Bounced too.” 

“Damn,” Jason says, impressed. “He left a cell number.” 

“Is it local?” 

“Looks like it.” 

Roy hums, and fishes around for his own cell, ducking to check under the coffee table. 

Jason shoves a hand under the cushion at the end of the loveseat, and then tosses the device in Roy’s direction. He catches it out of the air, unlocking it and pulling the messaging app up. “Tell me his number?” 

Jason reads it out, and then pauses to watch Roy’s flurry of fingers. “What are you saying to him?” 

“Told him I know a great pizza place in the Water District,” Roy replies, and hits send. Then he shrugs. “Can’t hurt, right?” 

Jason shrugs too, and is interrupted by Roy’s phone buzzing. They both still, surprised. 

“That was quick.” 

Roy studies the short text. “He says he’s vegan.” 

“Dealbreaker?” Jason asks. 

“No, I’m still good. Giuseppe’s has vegan options, right?” 

Jason’s nose scrunches in thought. “I think so.” 

Roy fires back a text, and doesn’t even manage to get it in his jeans pocket before the screen pings with a new notification. He retrieves the cell and studies the message. “I have a date next Tuesday.” 

“You picking him up?” 

As if in response, Roy’s phone buzzes again. “Yup. Kane county address.” 

Jason whistles low. “Comes from money then.” 

“No kidding. You think I should take the Ducati or the Ecosse?” 

Jason considers, pursing his lips. “Red is your colour; sends the right message. Take the Ducati.” 

“Neat,” Roy replies, and send a short reply. “Cool. See how it goes, yeah?” 

“I can’t believe that worked,” Jason says with a shake of his head, and slumps back into the cushions to return to his scrolling. Roy grunts his agreement, and goes back to his tinkering. 

**Author's Note:**

> [ ](https://linktr.ee/meaninglessblah)


End file.
